My dear Hooker
I had intended writing this morning to thank Mrs. Hooker most sincerely for her last & several notes about you,2 & now your own note in your hand has rejoiced me.3 To walk between 5 & 6 miles is splendid, & with a little patience you must soon be well. I knew you had been very ill, but I hardly knew how ill, until yesterday, when Bentham (from the Cranworths) called here & I was able to see him for 10 minutes.4 He told me, also, a little about the last days of your Father.5 I wish I had known your Father better; my impression is confined to his remarkably cordial, courteous & frank bearing.6 I fully concur & understand what you say about the difference of feeling in the loss of a father & child.7 I do not think anyone could love a Father much more than I did mine & I do not believe three or four days ever pass without my still thinking of him, but his death at 84 caused me nothing of that insufferable grief, which the loss of poor dear Annie caused.8 And this seems to me perfectly natural, for one knows for years previously that one’s Father’s death is drawing slowly nearer & nearer; whilst the death of one’s child is a sudden & dreadful wrench.
What a wonderful deal you read: it is a horrid evil for me that I cannot read hardly anything, for it makes my head almost immediately begin to sing violently.9 My good women-kind read to me a great deal, but I dare not ask for much science & am not sure that I could stand it.10 I enjoyed Tylor extremely & the first part of Lecky; but I think the latter is often vague & gives a false appearance of throwing light on his subject, by such phrases, as “spirit of the age” “spread of civilization” &c.—11 I confine my reading to or hour per day in skimming through the back volumes of the Annals & Mag. of N. H. & find much that interests me.—12 I miss my climbing plants very much, as I could observe them when very poorly. By the way Asa Gray approves of my paper on them.13 Did I ever tell you that I have put myself under Bence Jones, & I am sure he has done me good by rigorous diet. I have been half starved to death & am 15 lb lighter, but I have gained in walking power & my vomiting is immensely reduced.14 I have now hopes of again some day resuming scientific work, which is my sole enjoyment in life.—
I did not enjoy the “Mill on the Floss” so much as you, but from what you say we will read it again.15 Do you know Silas Marner:16 it is a charming little17 It is a charming little story if you run short & like to have it we cd send it by post.
We are now reading some American novels viz. Rutledge & Christine.18 The latter we cd lend you. We like them much but I think they are of too mild a nature for you, for I remember you were once awfully indignant at some novel I recommended. We have almost finished the first vol of Palgrave & I like it much; but did you ever see a book so badly arranged.19 The frequently of the allusions to what will be told in the future are quite laughable. I know nothing about the Reader but hope soon to hear something from Wallace on the subject.20 Did you read Miller’s address to the chemical section at Birm.?21 it seemed to me very good. I have not attempted Jamieson or Geikie or Frost & Fire;22 perhaps the latter may not be too strong a dose for Emma,23 who, however, is not very tolerant of science; Jamieson some day I shall certainly read to myself, & then there is Wallace’s great paper,24 which will be a tough job. By the way I was very much pleased by the footnote about Wallace in Lubbock’s last chapter.25 I had not heard that Huxley had backed up Lubbock about parliament.26 I suspect Lady L.27 is very ambitious, & to the world how grand parliament & politicks appear. Did you see a sneer some time ago in the Times, about how incomparably more interesting Politicks were compared with Science even to scientific men.28 Remember what Trollope says in “Can you Forgive her” about getting into parliament, as the highest earthly ambition.29 Jeffreys in one of his letters, I remember, says that making an effective speech in parliament is a far grander thing than writing the grandest History.30 All this seems to me a poor short-sighted view. I cannot tell you how it has rejoiced me once again seeing your hand-writing, my best of old friends.
Yours affectionately | Ch. Darwin
Please cite as “DCP-LETT-4901,” in Ɛpsilon: The Charles Darwin Collection accessed on